A Fake Day

Where is the thrill?

While the real Paul McCartney was being married literally down the street, I was in line behind a Frenchman asking the real “tour guides” of Madame Tussauds, whether Justin Bieber was inside.

“Oh yes, he’s on the third floor, right near Britney Spears.”

And the friends high fived.

I wanted to tell them, “they’re not really here.”

Nonetheless the crowd of thousands paid $50 a person to walk the mammouth halls of these five floors so they could get their photos taken with a mannequin. 

Walking with children ages 11-15 they swept past John Wayne, Audrey Hepburn, James Dean.  “Who?”

At Alfred Hitchcock they knew it was something scary, one person asked, as she stood under a Bates Motel sign, “Is that Jack the Ripper?”

In a room off to the side there was an odd mix of politicians.  It sounds like the start of a bad joke, but what do MLK and Hitler have in common?  Someone felt they belonged with JFK, Castro and Ghaddafi for photos.   Do Lady Gaga, Gandhi and Nelson Mandela really belong in the same space?

Pope John Paul?  The Lama?

While some people didn’t know the superstars of old, Robin Williams and Schwarzenegger were lonely, they practically trampled us to get a picture with Michael Jackson, who clearly hasn’t lost any of his…luster.

It doesn’t count as a real day.  Everything was fake, from the people, the excitement, and especially the gift shop where they will put your name on a fake academy award.

But what is it about this place?  In every language they run to get their photos in some odd poses with a wax figure of Tom Cruise.  First I became angry at the crowds for their lack of civility and sheer stupidity.  Then I got angry at the creators of the exhibit for failing to at least give some history lesson to this most captive of audiences. 

Until finally there was a section on the real Anna Maria Tussaud who created death masks of famous guillotine victims of the French Revolution.  And these masks turned into an exhibit and it allowed people to see what Marie Antoinette or Robespierre looked like. 

However that need no longer exists.  I don’t need a wax figure to see what Lady Gaga looks since I can download a naked picture of her while waiting in line for my ticket.